


Kindness So Cruel

by QueenMana_PrincessLolita



Category: Vampire Knight
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMana_PrincessLolita/pseuds/QueenMana_PrincessLolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Kaname's Sacrifice: In which the gang left behind by their supreme ruler sort out their feelings, Zero's realized a lot, Ai overhears something shocking, as Yuuki declares her resolve. Rated M for non-explicit reference to human sacrifice, one or two swears, and talk of someone ripping out their heart. Can possibly continued if it is liked. For YenGirl in gratitude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindness So Cruel

How exactly were they supposed to feel?  
Staring listlessly up at the ice that a one Kuran Kaname-sama hovered, encased within, as they waited for Kuran Yuuki, the mother of his new birthed child and sole heir to the most ancient and potent of pureblood vampire linage, many pondered the conundrum of emotion they’d been left to sort out. It was not the first time any of them had been here in the last two years and more. Each one of them had been here several times; Yuuki-sama having actually remained, living in the compound above for many months after her…(what: fiancé, lover, ancestor, king, savior?), after her Kaname had been frozen.  
She, most of all, must have been confused. Then again, that is what that person had intended, no?  
He was the sacrificial lamb. And as all good and otherwise doomed sinners knew, they could not afford to be merciful with their maiden victim. They had to lead her up to the mount, cast her down upon the altar brutishly, and callously plunge the blade into that tender breast. Lily white, silken skin would glow with agony, ivory features contorted with beautiful suffering as the bloody stain spread, stealing the immaculate innocence. Panting with effort, with determination, with lust, the assassin would fulfill his duty, carving out the heart and tossing into the furnace to be offered up in exchange for salvation.  
He couldn’t ask them to be his executioners; they loved him too much, they would not murder him! However, the hunters in whom the hatred of many generations had been sown, they would slaughter him without a thought. Especially if it meant their own survival; the homicide enacted without even last rites for him, so that their power to protect their own would not just be rekindled, but be reborn anew, leagues stronger than before.  
Still, despite his inevitable demise, he did not want them to waste their tears on him. He did not want them to mourn, to lose their smiles and the fleeting, superficial happiness that existed without him, to their grief. Better to have them hate him, than to know they will cry rivers out of love for him.  
And so, as he planned his death, he plotted the means by which he would slaughter their love for him.  
He’d apparently discarded Takuma, leaving him with Sara. Recklessly, slayed Hanadagi-sama in cold blood. Pretended to kill Hanabusa’s father. Then ended the lives of many a pureblood, unknown to them at that point, so that Sara couldn’t do so and therefore inherit their powers, all to strength himself. Seemingly having lost all rational thought, they had thought that he’d betrayed even his beloved Yuuki by declaring his intentions to consume her too, and in doing so, pitted even Kaien Cross against him. Thanks to Sara controlling Takuma, Zero had been mistakenly led to believe that Kaname was to blame for the death of his family, that he’d planned the tragedy, despite the obvious, glaring fact that releasing Shizuka had not been the reason she targeted the Kiryuus. Setting Shizuka and her lover free, had only allowed them to devote themselves to loving one another without the restraints of her unfortunate engagement to the unhinged Kuran Rido, who, upon finding out that she had dared to leave her cage, and be unfaithful to him (with an ex-human no less), used his contacts in the Hunter’s Association to have that poor Level-D killed via placement on the HA’s Execution List. The Kiryuu couple had been the unfortunate souls who had just done their job, and thus become scapegoats for the broken-hearted pureblood’s anger. But of course, Zero Kiryuu had told himself that no vampire deserved even vague, human kindness, so setting a young woman who had been cruelly imprisoned by her insane betrothed for no other apparent reason than his possessive whim and obvious paranoia, especially when allowing her the right to happiness alongside one who actually cared about her ended in his family being caught up in their mess, was unforgivable. Accidently wounding Ruka while fighting Zero had nearly pushed Akatsuki over the edge.  
All in all, it was close. He’d almost succeeded. Almost.  
But they understood, not long after he’d done what was needed, they’d come to understand; to comprehend the burden he’d under taken, and only loathe that it had had to be him to bear it. Alone.  
Then again, who else would do it? Who else cared about humanity enough? Loved them enough? Many. Most of humanity liked the idea of perpetual existence, of their species continuing. But none of them had the power to save themselves. Only purebloods had the ability to kill other purebloods, and of them, only Kaname was willing to be martyred. Well, there was another alternative, Yuuki, but to be fair, when had Kaname ever even contemplated the thought of having her endangered? To have her truly risk her life? Never. Not if it could be avoided so easily. Not while he still had breath. He would never have anyone else pay his debt, the pound of flesh he owed to the world of men just for being born. As the progenitor, the very first of the cursed, it was his responsibility (not Yuuki’s, not Isaya’s) to guarantee the safety of the masses.  
So, regardless of their own opinions, they would not forsake him. It was almost a poetic form of spite that way, to love him unconditionally when all he wanted was to be forgotten.  
It the most twisted, heartless of things, to ask them to smite their affection. To banish him from their hearts. To scorn the very murmur of his name. How dare he manipulate their feelings when he had never even presumed to turn them into mindless puppets to satisfy their purpose to him with his will? How dare he relinquish them for the greater good? How dare he relinquish his reputation, abandon his relationships, and surrender to his fate? How could he have the audacity to renounce them all and resign himself, his very life, to the compassion that always wounded him? Made him vulnerable? Unto those people who would massacre him for their selfish wish to continue on? Who would use his altruistic desire to grant them mercy from the blood of his blood and flesh of his flesh? Why did his guilt make him so ruthless to his own self? Cold to the anguish in his rosewood eyes? Nonchalant to potential to find a semblance of happiness with those who cared for him so…?  
Was he worth nothing in his own eyes?  
Why wasn’t he enraptured by the beat of his own pulse? Captivated by the rush of oxygen in his chest?  
Did he not see the lovely creature that stared back at him in the mirror? Not witness the great things had had done? Marvel at the wonderful things he wanted to do? Enamored by barbaric kindness, primal, all-consuming and cruel in its selflessness, its nobility, that saturated that rare, ethereal smile?  
He was a fool, a blind, beautiful fool whose wickedness knew no bounds.  
But, Kaname was worth the world to them, and for all that he was wicked, they missed him nonetheless.  
________________________________________  
It was over a century later. Lady Ai was already her own woman, more mature than her mother, stronger than her adoptive father, as beautiful as her real sire…in every way. She however, had learnt from his decisions, and realized that while martyrdom was picturesque and all, she wanted no part of it, and promptly decided that selfishness was perfectly acceptable when she had a competent enough pawn. It wasn’t cowardice if it allowed her to stay by the side of her most precious people; it was common sense. Besides, she might be the last pureblood, but she most certainly would not to be blamed for whatever mistakes her descendants make. It wasn’t fair to herself or her loved ones.  
In this ever-practical way, she was wise enough to comprehend that while the ends justify the means, but sensitive enough to understand the pain of those guideless sheep left behind after the black lamb was slaughtered.  
It seemed however, that her mother had not yet learnt from the tragedy that was the tale of Kuran Kaname the First, despite being the main love interest.  
She had just come back from a trip to Sri Lanka, where she had harvested a single Kadupul flower and sealed it in resin for her slumbering father. She hadn’t delivered it yet, but she hoped her mother would be up for a trip to Cross Academy. She had missed talking to her honorable father alone; he was better than any diary at helping her get her thoughts together, and she knew him even better than her naïve elders thanks to having read all of his journals when Hanabusa wasn’t using them, and once she was old enough, travelling the world to research his life prior to his re-awakening by Kuran Rido more thoroughly and to follow in his footsteps towards attaining enlightenment. Still, she knew that Kuran Yuuki had lessened her visits to her former fiancé since marrying Zero, and stopped them altogether after conceiving that pouty baby brother of hers. Foolish, Ai knew, but her mother had never been known for her intelligence. Like Kuran Juuri before her, she was radiant, like “the very blaze of the sun,” but very much unlike her ancestor and faux sibling who, in his fair loveliness, possessed “the illuminating wisdom of the moon.” Being born of them both, Ai was a first for her line, seeing as she, (pardon her crude tongue but she’d been raised by a dense, space-case of a girl, a crude, moody boy, his cruder, moodier sensei, and their waifish, weirdo of an adoptive father), gave no fucks concerning any of the traditional vampire customs, statures or protocol. Kuran Ai answered to no-one but herself, and, if she was feeling particularly sentimental, her vacant mother and that rude Level-D that made them yummy things five times a day, the old blonde that fretted about her dislike of scarves even in cold weather, and the gruff geezer that taught her to shoot. She was quoted as having “the fearless, unrestrained independence and power of a supernova.” Hell, to Hana-chan’s chagrin, his son had once mused that she was rather like a hypernova, or even the blackhole that was oft left in their wake; irresistible and all-consuming. It amused her to think he was right. After all, the last person to get on her bad side by demanded she do something she didn’t want to, just because it was her “duty” as the last unmated female pureblood of the Kuran line to mate with the only other male pureblood in existence, (read: her biological sire -ew), once he’d been awakened, had immediately come down with a case of “deader than a doornail,” with just a flash of her carmine eyes. The default deadpan of her features that was so reminiscent of her Uncle Senri’s blank expression, hadn’t even twitched.  
Entering through the side door in the kitchens, she’d sadistically greeted her soon-to-be step father.  
“Good afternoon, Kiryuu-kun,” She purred in the deepest tone she could without sounding ridiculous, appearing behind him in a nanosecond.  
To her dismay, he wasn’t startled in the least, and, completely aware of her persistent habit of copying that man in order to get a rise out of him; a ploy she had used in childhood once she’d discovered her other father’s journals, to keep herself entertained, and that had worked an embarrassing number of times as it was only used at strategic moments of weakness, and especially because she’d looked even more like the man himself (or Zero’s earliest memories of him) when she was a child, as she was always quiet tall, and particularly just before puberty come, but then her mother further decided to ruin her fun by cutting her bangs. Luckily, she’d liked the look she had in her first years very much.  
It had been seven months since she’d last seen him, and she pondered about the turtle neck he was wearing. He’d never been one for restrictive or formal clothing.  
“What are you doing here before sunset, Kuran,” He groused, as he was supposed to, playing along. “It’s against the rules to show up unannounced, or wander around without an escort.”  
“In that case, perhaps I should apologize,” She replied smoothly, an unholy twinkle in those eyes, that were so eerily similar to equally utterly unrepentant rosewood orbs the silveret had known once long ago. “I wouldn’t want you to shoot me with your big, scary gun…”  
Anyone who didn’t know of their history or the nature of their relationship, would have been rightfully disgusted at what seemed to be the sight of her and her step-father flirting. But this banter was just a ritual by now. An oddly soothing, teasing repetition of conversations that he could now look back on with almost fond exasperation. That man, the original speaker of all those taunts, he had been moron. An unbelievably cruel, and unrealistically kind type of moron that had left all these precious persons behind not because of a whim, but because he was needed elsewhere, and he knew that Zero, once he had grown up enough to understand, to forgive, to look beyond the shallow divisions of species and the horrid, blood-stained past, would take care of them, would appreciate them. Would love them and treasure them for him while he paid for his supposed sins.  
He was the type of moron Kiryuu Zero could learn to live with, that he had come to like; as much as he would never admit it. As much as he wouldn’t admit a lot of things: guilt, regret, shame…  
Sobering, the elder turned away from her and back to stove, where he’d been making breakfast, flipping yet another pancake before adding it to the seventeen on the platter perched on the countertop on his other side seconds later. It was charmed to keep the delicious morsels placed upon it warm, and the mouth-watering scents of melted butter and maple syrup suffused in the air. Omelets were on a twin platter, a large crystal bowl of assorted, newly diced fruit came after that, and a basket of croissants top it all off. No doubt, freshly squeezed orange juice was chilling in the refrigerator a ways away.  
“Yuuki’s in the garden, Ai,” He said distractedly, as he poured another ladle of batter into the none-stick skillet. In his peripheral vision he saw her casually crossing over to decorative platter (one of the many impractical cookery and cutlery in the Kuran Estate, but at present, all he had as he never seemed to find the time to buy more homey appliances and whatnot), with a fork she had procured while he wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t surprised, food was her one weakness, the one subject that would make her lose her infamous composure; that would fracture her flawless façade. The fact that she liked his cooking best meant that she wouldn’t hold back, but most definitely didn’t mean he would let her do as she pleased.  
“Don’t,” He commanded in warning; flashing her a scolding look. “You know better. Breakfast will be finished in about ten minutes; once I have enough for you and that bottomless pit erroneously called a gentle princess.”  
“But, don’t you want any help-” She began, only for him to shoot her a mild glare. He already didn’t like people in the kitchen while he was cooking, and he especially did not enjoy having walking culinary disasters (like all Kurans seemed to be), touching unfinished meals. Why the simple act of entering this room in particular could turn such a usually graceful creature into a clumsy, newborn fawn was lost to Zero, but he didn’t really care.  
“Out. Now,” He reiterated, stressing the last word and pointing the ladle in the direction of the door to provide emphasis. “Your brother’s in the pantry trying to find the remnants of the 50 pound bag of powdered sugar, in an effort to prove that his mother didn’t finish it all. He’s more than enough help.”  
She knew that of course, she’d sensed him the moment the gates of the estate came into view. Still, can’t blame a girl for trying.  
“What about a taste tester?” She chimed cheekily, knowing that neither silveret would taste anything before it was all done. They had cooking down to an instinct by now, so there was no need.  
“Ai…!” A new voice interjected as the statuesque form of her beloved baby brat came into view with a crumbled, gigantic white paper bag that look quiet empty, but from the way the bottom hung, apparently had enough to cover those scrumptious pancakes their father was making. “For the last time, out!”  
“Fine, fine,” She sighed in disappointment, before her eyes snapped up and filled with mischief, remembering what he’d told her last time she’d called –that he’d succeeded Kiryuu Zero’s position as a guardian at their Grandpa’s school. “You’re so scary, Mr. Prefect.”  
Father and son resisted the urge to facepalm.  
Masking her aura, she had intended to sneak up on her airheaded parent and surprise her with two dozen Ghost orchids freshly picked by the pureblood in question; teleportation was so very convenient, when she overheard an idiotic declaration that had her all but accidently crushing the delicate glass the sacred flower had been sealed in, in an effort to control her roaring ire that, if not suppressed, would make the phantom flowers wilt.  
“Isaya-sama’s wife sacrificed herself for both her children, meaning that if mother had wanted, she could have turned Kaname into a human too,” Yuuki was saying, hands curled around the vessel that contained the rose trapped within resin, that bloomed once every ten years. “But she didn’t give him that mercy, and not even my father, who loved him as his adorable son despite everything, ever considered it. I…I will deliver unto that man, the one whom I loved so much, and who loved me all the more, the sight that I saw when I was human. I will make his body impervious to the radiance of sunlight, so that he will no longer have to squint in longing. I will silence his guilt by taking away those horrible, tormenting memories of his ancient life, and release him even of me and the bittersweet remembrance of how much he loved. I will quench his thirst, and end his long fruitless night awaiting the dawn. I, for him, who owns my heart, I will relinquish this life to set him free….”  
________________________________________


End file.
